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Journey to Trypticon's Brain
Log Title: Journey to Trypticon's Brain Characters: Banshee, Dust Devil, Megatron, Scales, Shockwave, Trypticon, Vortex, Windblade, Grimlock Location: Trypticon Date: August 14, 2018 TP: Titans Awake TP Summary: After getting inside the Decepticon titan, both Autobots and Decepticons try to get to the control center. Category:2018 Category:Logs ''As logged by '' Scales Log session starting at 10:42:58 on Tuesday, 14 August 2018. Trypticon is alive again. Lights glow all over the giant dinosaur, but he remains strangely calm, nestled up against the side of the cavern as if it were a massive pillow. Windblade, Shockwave, Dust Devil, and Scales have all made it inside - Windblade at the heart of Trypticon's mind, Shockwave in pursuit, and the Autobots gaining access to Trypticon's legs - it's a long way up if they decide to explore. Inside, the city is quiet, although there is a background hum as multiple systems slowly come online. Scales sneaks through Trypticon's corridors. She actually had been in the cityformer once on a mission with Discord- but that was when Trypticon was in city shape. He is currently a giant dinosaur. As a result, she doesn't actually know where much of anything is, and Trypticon is sideways right now, anyway. So, maybe she should be looking for a map first. Surely, there's a place where a tapebot can find a map. Until then, onwards and upwards! Bravely skittering through the shadows! GAME: Scales PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Average difficulty. GAME: Windblade FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of High difficulty. GAME: Windblade FAILS a COURAGE roll of Immense difficulty. Scales spots a terminal! She hops and scrabbles up onto it, then tippy-types quickly with her claws. The map comes right up and.. hey.. this is really easy. Let's see if Trypticon has any information in here from his internal sensors. Maybe they're working. If not, at least she got a map. Ah, home sweet home. That is, perhaps, what a more casual Decepticon might think as they wander the corridors of Trypticon, but Shockwave is anything but casual. He is a machine on a mission, a lone purple predator stalking through an even bigger predator. The advantage is his however, to an extent, because he knows Trypticon. He has wandered every corridor in both of his modes. Thus, on the assumption that Windblade is in the brain chamber, that is where Shockwave is making his way to. He expects resistance, of course. Some foolish gesture on the part of Windblade. Whether or not Trypticon will comply, on the other hand - well, that, and the true extent of Windblade's technological charms, remains to be seen. GAME: Scales PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Above Average difficulty. GAME: Trypticon PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Average difficulty. Trypticon's response is sluggish - the Autobots and Shockwave make their way farther into the city than might be expected considering the circumstances. Slowly, however, Trypticon's subsystems start to respond. There is no intruder alert, but internal forcefields start to flicker on, and blast doors slowly begin to close. Quickly moving guests might journey a little farther into the city at first, but before long there will be some challenges. GAME: Dust Devil PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Above Average difficulty. GAME: Shockwave PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Above Average difficulty. Dust Devil stays close to the little dragon. A smile on his face as he manages to work with her as a team to defeat the obstacles. He uses his own techknowhow to work on some of the forcefields. GAME: Scales PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Above Average difficulty. Scales finishes her work on the monitor, putting in a few commands to make the doors a little easier. She joins Dust Devil at a much faster pace. "So, uh, good news, bad news- I know where Windblade is, and Shockwave is on his way there, but also, Trypticon knows we're in here. We should try to hurry." You come out of hiding. Dust Devil nods and begins to move faster. The nice thing about scales is that she's also agile and at least faster than some bots. "Great job scales2-d2...now we just need ta save the princess and get off this rock." He chuckles softly, "Though we better hurry cause I really don't want ta find some short con at the end of this sayin she's in another castle...err titan...thing." Shockwave gets stopped by a door. He opens his remote interface tool and quickly navigates and slices through Trypticon's systems to open the door. Then there's a forcefield. He does it again. Being one of the most technically inclined Decepticons aside, he simply knows the behemoth's various systems, control mechanisms and programming inside and out from years of exposure, use and performing maintenance. Trypticon may not want him here, but he is coming through anyone. This purple train we on don't make no stops. "Your efforts are futile and a waste of your resources, Trypticon," he remarks, continuing on. Scales mutters, "I am not jumping down a garbage chute, even if it's to get away from Decepticons." So far, so good.. but there's a long way to go. "Do you think the big guy will come down here or just wait until Trypticon is moving?" Dust Devil comes out of hiding. Dust Devil chuckles and continues to follow Scales with the map. His optics looking for likely traps as they move. "I'd really not want ta tangle with Shockwave if we can help it. And garbage chutes are great if you can move UP them. Never go down. That's a bad direction." Slowly, Trypticon comes inline. Internal defenses power up, gradually sealing off various levels of his internal corridors. Sealed off, that is, for everyone but Banshee, who is allowed free access to wherever she wants to go, as long as she's not with hated Shockwave. Shockwave, however, is hacking through those defenses easily, on his way to Trypticon's brain center, where he'll likely find Windblade. Dust Devil and Scales have gained access to Trypticon through his damaged legs and are slowly making their way upwards as Dust Devil disables Trypticon's internal forcefields. Megatron waits outside for Shockwave's inevitable report of success. Windblade mutters to herself, sensing Shockwave approaching, and her concern does flash through her link with Trypticon. Because well, with Trypticon awake, Windblade is definitely a liability more than an asset. Hopefully Trypticon feels the same way... Banshee quietly makes her way towards the brain herself, keeping up a near continuous stream of quiet, soft opera... partially to herself, partially to Trypticon. Many, many years ago, back when she was still just a humble Seeker, she used to do this when she was off-duty. And because of the way that she's designed - with the ability to sing multiple parts of a song at once, she's doing just that; the sweet, pure music echoes through Trypticon's corridors even at the low volume. Occasionally, one of her 'voices' break off and comment on poor Trypticon's condition, and how the mean Autobots really hurt him, and about how he'll soon be back on his feet. It's all in German of course. Occasionally, she asks if he's concerned for Windblade... not really expecting him to answer... not even really knowing if he understands her. Shockwave opens one final door before stepping into the command center. He glances briefly over the mess that Trypticon's fall left this place in and files a directive away to take care of that once this debacle is over. Now one room away from the brain chamber, Shockwave directs power to his arm cannon, the low, dangerous hum echoing through the abandoned room as he approaches the area where Trypticon does all of his deep thinking. Windblade doesn't have a reservation, you see, and Shockwave has come to show her the door. GAME: Scales PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty. Scales keeps working upwards with Dust Devil, putting the map she saw and their small size to the best use. If a door won't open right away, there's a vent to get around, or an access to hack. She doesn't slow down until she hears music. Sound can carry a long way down empty metal corridors. The Autobot tape pauses, trying to figure out -which- way. Trypticon reacts to Windblade's concern, which adds to his anger at the pain caused by Shockwave's brute force override of his systems to get inside. Trypticon's brain center houses Trypticon's strongest internal defenses - strong enough, perhaps, to even give Shockwave pause. Banshee slowly begins to catch up to Shockwave, as her way is not impeded by Trypticon. When Banshee asks about Windblade, the hallway lights flicker in response. The sound and flickering lights can, indeed, be heard, then seen, by the Autobots creeping behind. Dust Devil points. "The sound carries best through the vents....I think between yer audios and my accidental knowledge of getting ta places I'm not supposed ta, it might be the quicker path. There's obviously someone else in here and I don't think that was Windblade. Whatcha think Scales?" Megatron waits outside Trypticon, waiting for Banshee and Shockwave to report. Dust Devil and Scales are sneaking around in Trypticon, and Windblade is in his brain center. The driller was driven off, and Blast Off brought all the other Decepticons back to the surface. Vortex is a curious chopper today. He decides to see what's going on down in Trypticon, following about. GAME: Scales FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of High difficulty. Scales eyes the vents. "They're plenty big enough for me. If you c'n keep up, then yeah, that's probably safest." She listens for a moment longer to the music, but it's too hard to separate out the singing from the talking so she misses the significance of Trypticon flickering his lights. "I hope Windblade is okay. That sounds like the German plane." Dust Devil grins and heads for the vents. "Can you blow a super fine smoke? Not like too thick. I need ta look fer laser triggers on traps up here. And yer gonna need ta look fer them too. If ya gotta good nose sometimes you can smell them if ya figure out what yer lookin fer. Watch fer irregular panels and stuff too." Megatron looks away from his study of Trypticon as Vortex arrives back from the massive tunnel. "I trust Blast Off got the rest of my Decepticons to safety?" Megatron asks in his gravelly voice. He looks TORN UP from his encounter with the driller, but if he feels the pain, he doesn't let on. He turns back to Trypticon. "This is taken an awfully long time. If Windblade has betrayed us, you may be given your toy back, this time without restrictions." GAME: Dust Devil PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Above Average difficulty. GAME: Scales PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Above Average difficulty. GAME: Scales PASSES a TECHNICAL roll of Average difficulty. GAME: Dust Devil FAILS a TECHNICAL roll of Average difficulty. Scales grins at Dust Devil. "I c'n see infrared." She flicks to infrared vision as they shuffle through the vents, pausing when she spots a laser sensor to point it out so they can disable the trap before continuing. Vortex nods "Yeah, he did. I came back to see if you need any help with things." he chuckles. "Oh. I hope she did then. I look forward to new toys..." <> Windblade ... hello. Can anyone hear me? <> Scales says, "Yes!" <> Windblade says, "Oh thank Solus... I've managed to link with Trypticon, but Shockwave is coming for me and I don't know how long Trypticon can hold him off." Dust Devil is carefully moving across the vent panels when the floor gives out from under him. His head THUMPS against the next panel while the tips of his toes also help keep him up. He yelps and scrambles his arms in the air before trying to get purchase on panel by his head. "Scales you okay?" <> Scales says, "There's two of us inside- I radioed out where we are before we got in Trypticon, so there might be more help coming, too." <> Dust Devil says, "Yer rescue party is...OW....GAH!...we're on our way. Scales grab my leg and push!" <> Grimlock grunts, "You be careful, Scales. Me Grimlock got transmission, but me not fastest dino." Then louder, "Dust Devil! You no let anything happen to little buddy!" <> Windblade says, "Well, Banshee is inside too, at least. I don't know if Megatron is as well, but be careful you two. I'll do what I can to help you out from here." <> Dust Devil says, "I am not responsible fer the continued well being of Scales. She is a fully functionin member of the autobots and thus is responsible fer her own poor decision to investigate and then run INTA trypticon with me ta not get smushed. That bein said, I'll try not ta get her or I killed." <> Grimlock says, "You heard me, Dust Devil. Me no want hear excuses." <> Scales says, "Last I saw, Megatron was outside. An' pretty beat up. Y'know, if somebody wanted to hurry here and do something about that." <> Dust Devil says, "dude you still have my partially chewed and ripped off spoiler hanging on yer wall." <> Dust Devil says, "wonder if Trypticon can accidently step on him..." <> Grimlock says, "Don't make me add another to wall." <> Windblade hrms. "Considering he blew up Valvolux to get me to do this, I would love someone to finish that monster once and for all. And Trypticon is... complicated." Which also sounds a little more sadistic than Windy is normally known to be. <> Scales says, "I thought Overlord blew up Valvolux." Banshee continues to make her way towards the brain centre - taking a different route to Shockwave. From Windblade's perspective, the noise of German singing gets louder, slowly... as do any feelings that the big mech might have for Banshee, most likely. She smiles. "<< It's OK to be concerned for our friends.>>" Banshee says, still in German. "<< But I have to know. Is she just helping you, or is she trying to turn you away from us?>>" She pauses to see if she can interpret an answer before stepping into the brain room. <> Grimlock says, "It do seem just spiteful enough to be Overlord's fault." Banshee adds, as she steps through the door "If she's not... I can help her. Maybe. If she is… vell... mein hands are tied." This is said in English, for the implied threat. Shockwave begins to cross toward the door to the brain chamber, with full intentions of brute force hacking his way in there, when he hears the sound of Banshee singing. He hesitates at the entrance from the command center and then steps back. In spite of Dust Devil's clumsiness, he and Scales get close enough to see Banshee enter the command center - and while the door is open, spot Shockwave inside. Trypticon initially brings up his defenses, but as Banshee approaches, he allows her entrance to his brain chamber, where Windblade awaits. Trypticon speaks, his voice strangely calm for the usual ragebeast. "Prettyvoice..." "Calmspeaker helps with Trypticon's pain... my rage..." "Shockwave hurt Trypticon..." "Want to crush... but confused..." Shockwave backs away from the brain chamber door for now, perhaps to the relief of Trypticon. Vortex approaches "allright, give me the go-ahead and I'll keep these bots from the brain chamber." He says, ready for whatever's coming their way. Windblade hears Banshee enter, and ducks back a bit so she's not in a direct line of sight, letting her voice echo through the room, "Did you know, Banshee? Did you know how they treated Trypticon? How he was tortured? How much pain he had to endure, how much he still endures?" Her voice is accusatory, and a bit filled with an un-Windy rage of her own... apparently the link swings both ways, "Why did you do this to him? So you could have a weapon?" The fact that Windblade is unarmed...well, here's hoping Banshee can't risk shooting her in here. Scales helps Dust Devil out if his unfortunate position before sidling over to the door into the command center and pressing her audial receptors against it. She's a tape. She's going to listen, first, because there's a Shockwave on the other side of this door, and she's not exactly in his weight class. For the reference of any snooping Scales and Dust Devils, Shockwave is standing perfectly still in the center of the command center, staring at the door to the brain chamber. It's kind of eerie, really. Megatron nods slowly. "Yes. This is taking too long. Very well, Vortex - go forth and make short work of the Autobots. Any you disable without killing are yours to enjoy once Trypticon is back in our hands." Megatron crosses his arms across his broken chest, opticking Trypticon carefully as if wondering exactly what's going inside his pet behemoth. "If you encounter Windblade, I want her alive. The rest - use your own discretion." Vortex lowers to become a deadly looking helicopter. Vortex flies towards Trypticon, trying to go after the Autobots. "Right on my way.." On ce he gets there, he finds Trypticon sealed! "Slaggit! You Autobots arent going to get away that easily!" Banshee smiles quietly. "You remember me, old friend." she says, with a soft sigh. "Ja. Let her help ... I haff got Shockvave to stop." She looks at Windblade. "Don't turn him against us, unt I can help you get back to your misguided people. I keep my vord, ja?" She looks around at Windblade's accusatory tone, shaking her head. "Do you know zat I used to sing to him, to try unt take his pain? Well, partially to take avay mein own, too. And as ein apology. Ve had no city-speaker... Ve had no vay to... to understand him. Unt rage... such a useful tool. Ve vere... less civilised. Zer Autobots had Metroplex... ve had to even zer odds. For... vot it's vorth? I'm sorry for vot zey did to him." A frown crosses her face, and she lays a hand on a bulkead, with a soft sigh. "Trypticon, mein alter Freund. Du hast zugeh?rt, wenn niemand anders es getan hat. Ich f?hlte mich willkommen ... Ich hoffe, ich habe etwas von deinem Schmerz genommen. Es tut mir leid, ich konnte es nicht stoppen." She looks at Windblade. "Teach me. Teach me how to understand him, how to talk to zer Titans. I promise zat I vill not let zem hurt him again." Banshee's subtitles: Trypticon, my old friend. You listened, when nobody else would. I felt welcome... I hope I took some of your pain. I am sorry I could not stop it. Between the combined efforts of Banshee and Windblade, Trypticon calms. His hate and pain and rage subside, making it easier for Windblade to think and direct him. The weapons outside the room train on Shockwave, but don't fire. The Autobots are unimpeded. For the first time in a long, long time, Trypticon seems almost at peace, in a way not seen since Ghost disappeared. One of his little robot arms twitches as if he's dreaming in his sleep. Windblade pauses, and looks out towards Banshee... and the Cityspeaker looks somewhat haggard, the link with Trypitcon not the easiest thing in the world to manage. She studies her counterpart carefully, "I think neither Trypticon nor Metroplex need to be involved in the War anymore. Directly." She gazes evenly at Banshee, "I would not ask Metroplex to crush Decepticons underfoot, but provide safe haven for Autobots and those who need it. If you would agree to the same for Trypticon for the Decepticons... I would teach you how to speak to him directly." She smiles slightly, "Being a Cityspeaker is a sacred trust, given to us by Solus Prime herself. It is not something taken lightly." The fact that Windblade's voice is still shaky from the pain she shared with Trypticon is evidence enough of that. Dust Devil isn't sure what to do. He look at Scales smiling faintly when she saves him. Shockwave is still just standing there. You see, unlike Megatron, who is probably beginning to quiver with impotent rage and impatience, Shockwave has virtually infinite patience. That is one of the benefits of being the most machine-like Decepticon. He has his back to the door, so Scales and Dust Devil could, potentially, get the drop on him, but how distracted he actually is remains to be seen. Scales frowns. She can't hear much at this door. Shockwave must not be doing anything, and it seems like Windblade isn't in there, either. But Trypticon is.. calmer? She reviews her recording of the map. Aha. There's another way around. The little dragon gets back up into the vents and motions for Dust Devil to follow, then creeps down a side passage that curves back over the command center and closer in to Trypticon's brain. Scales is weirdly reminded of the Junkion that tried to persuade her and Backblast to shrink down and fix Dust Devil from the inside out. Outside, Megatron is beginning to quiver with impotent rage and impatience, especially once Vortex is denied access to Trypticon. Megatron frowns, as he receives a report that something is approaching Tarn. Something BIG. Banshee smiles sadly at Windblade, shaking her head. "I cannot make zat promise." she says. "If he vants to fight, I vill guide him, unt allow it. I can promise I vill not allow anyone to... to... torture him. To force his rage to flow. I vill not ask him to do sings just because he is zere, unt somevun vants to use ein sledgehammer to squash an ant. I promise zat nobody vill force zere vill upon him." She smiles, sadly, sitting on the edge of a console. "He... a very long time ago, allowed me to make zer choice to sing, to learn opera, ven... all non-military pursuits vere outlawed to conserve energon. He could haff got me executed, ja? Vasting essential resources. But he didn't. He chose not to then, unt I must respect his right to choose now. Do you see?" Banshee adds "He let me be who I am. I must let him be who he is... whoever zat turns out to be. If he does not want to fight, I vill not force him." Windblade moves over by Banshee, sitting down next to her as she thinks about the offer. "Look, I don't... I don't have the history of millions of years of war weighing on me. Not like others do." She glances over at Banshee, adding, "I don't want to fight you, but I will defend the Autobots. That being said..." She pauses, and looks over at Banshee, "I will teach you, then, because I trust you want what is best for Trypticon as a person, since you don't see him as a tool, or a weapon." She places a hand on Trypticon's cortex, giving him some reassurance. Some things seem to transcend the War, after all. Trypticon remains oddly calm and silent, even as his future is discussed and perhaps determined by an Autobot and a Decepticon. He nearly slides back into rest mode, although his secondary systems are back online, and even some self-repair systems begin to function again. Scales scoots along until she gets to the opening of the vent and can actually see the two femmes in Trypticon's brain center. She pauses there, dithering. So, she tries radioing the friendly one. Banshee smiles "He saw me as a person ven others didn't. I vos... just ein more Seeker." she explains. "I could not... live vith myself if I did not do zer same for him." She smiles. "And as for defending your beliefs... ja! You must, vigorously unt vith your life, if zat is vot it takes! Zat is how history vill know vich of us was right... which is more important: Security, or freedom? Vun day zis var vill be over, and ve vill know, because either zer Autobots - those who prioritise freedom over all else... at least, zer true followers of zat cause... unt zer Decepticons. Those like me who believe security comes before freedom unt everything else." Banshee continues, her player hitting enter too soon. "...vill triumph. I of course hope it's zer Decepticons, but, hah, you know I am biased." (Radio) You transmit, "Um, Windblade? I c'n see you now. An' I'd like to help, if I can?" to Windblade. Windblade sends a radio transmission. (Radio) Windblade sends you a radio transmission, 'Oh thank Solus... I have a T-Cog restraint on me and my weapons are offline. Banshee is here but... well, it'll take time to explain, I think we've come to an agreement, about Trypticon. It's complicated.' (Radio) You transmit, "I can help with that! I'm a medic. Uhm.. Banshee did threaten to kill me once. You think it'd be safe to come in at the moment?" to Windblade. Windblade sends a radio transmission. (Radio) Windblade sends you a radio transmission, 'Yes, it should be fine. We're just working something out.' Windblade laughs at that, "Biased? You? Maybe a little..." She smiles over at Banshee, "I have some... friends arriving shortly, so we should probably make this quick. Normally this would be a lot of ceremony with the Mistress of Flame, but we don't quite have that kind of time do we?" So instead, she pops a panel on her wrist, pulling out a data slug and offering it to Banshee, "It's encrypted to you, and only you. No one else will access this information." She then smiles slightly, "Though I will need to get your face painted, if you're going to be a Cityspeaker." Which explains the markings on Windy's face, at least. Scales carefully opens the covering on the vent and then drops down to the floor, opening her wings at the last moment to brake. She's not trying to hide, since Windblade already warned the Decepticon. Banshee nods a little, taking the dataslug. She opens her cockpit, plugging it into the radio console within. Once the data is transferred, she unplugs it, places it on the console, and pulls one of her lugers - flipping it around to hold it by the barrel. She uses the butt to smash the dataslug into dust, shattering the fragile crystal within and erasing the data. "It is a good job I am ein artist, as vell as a singer, ja?" She says, softly. She holsters her pistol and opens up a panel in her thigh, pulling out a compact, portable painting kit, along with a few brushes. "When... it is quiet, and we can both get some time... I think zer ceremony vould still be appropriate." She flinches as Scales drops to the ground, holding her hands slightly away from her pistols, as if to say 'I won't start the fight, but I am ready to defend myself.' Windblade smiles, "It's alright Banshee, Scales is just here to make sure I get out of here alright. And that I get some unnecessary hardware removed." She gives the restraining bolt a wry look, then chuckles at the painting kit. "Well, if it weren't for the war, you'd be a perfect choice anyway. Solus' flame is guiding us in this, it seems." And with that, Windblade takes the painting kit, giving Banshee the same set of facial markings that she already has. At the mention of a ceremony, Windblade smiles a touch, "I wouldn't... mind taking you to Caminus, Banshee. Though I'd have to find a way to get back there, first." Scales sits up and holds up her paws in a peaceful gesture. Nevermind that she can't actually put -her- weapons down. "I'm not here to fight if I don't hafta," she says. "'M a field medic." She then carefully sidles over to Windblade and takes a look at the restraints. Banshee smiles "I sink, in other circumstances, Frau Vindblade, ve could haff been friends. As it is, let us be civilized foes. Do... send Herr Metroplex mein apologies. I am sure he understands, in zer circumstances. It voz him or Planet Earth." She nods to Scales. "I am going to haff a lot of explaining to do ven you guys are gone." chuckles. Windblade chuckles faintly, "Oh, what, you stopped me from completing a nefarious plan and managed to bring Trypticon back under control? Only the 'damage' I did is going to take a long time to fully eliminate, and you were trying to protect Trypticon and that's how we escaped?" She gives Banshee a wry expression, finishing the painting of Banshee's face as she mutters, "Starscream is a bad influence..." before coughing a bit. "There, all done. Now, Scales, if we can get my systems fully online we can get out of here before Megatron or Shockwave lose their patience." Scales ohs to herself as Metroplex is brought up. She drops her voice and whispers urgently while she works on safely removing the restraining bolt. You mutter to Windblade, "Ah, when I radioed back with where you were, Metroplex transformed and left Earth. He's probably coming here, would be my guess." Scales mutters to Windblade, "Ah,... radioed back... where you were, Metroplex transformed and left Earth.... here,... be my..." Banshee smiles "Ja, zat's part of it." She agrees. It's quite clear she heard what Scales muttered, stiffening. "Er... make it quick sending mein apology, bitte?" She asks, nervously. Log session ending at 15:10:47 on Tuesday, 14 August 2018.